


Never Have I Ever

by SerenNoir



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spit As Lube, swiggity swoogity I'm cumming for that booty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 10:01:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenNoir/pseuds/SerenNoir
Summary: Stiles is a crew-member aboard the Alpha when Captain Hale makes a pit-stop to raid an island where they pick up new help. Beautiful, tanned Danny is among the new members added to the crew, and Stiles can't stop staring. Following a popular drinking game, he realizes that someone else can't stop staring at him either.





	Never Have I Ever

**Author's Note:**

> I started this little ficlet damn near five years ago as a prompt for a friend. Here I am finally delivering-- late. So late that I'm not even active in the fandom anymore.

There are not many things in this world that Stiles can say he agrees wholeheartedly on with his Captain, Peter Hale, but ransacking that small islander village is among the few that are. The village, itself, had been a crapshoot and offered up little food and supplies, but it was teeming with strong, young men who only wanted nothing more than to provide for their families. Just as well, cause Captain Hale was looking for a few able-bodied men to help crew his ship, the Alpha.

As he gazed upon their eager faces, Stiles was reminded how he became mixed up with the pirate business in the first place. His mother had just recently died from the bubonic and his father spent the entirety of his days working for the local lawmen for low wages. It took more than a little prayer and hope to put food into your belly, after all. To be completely honest, Stiles hadn't known it was a pirate ship until he was thirty miles off the coast of Sussex, but by then it was too late to just ask them to turn back around and take him home.

It really worked out in his favor anyways. The Captain, although creepy and off-putting in his own way, had a dark sense of humor and treated his crew fairly. His first mate, and nephew, Derek had a sour and gruff exterior, but was a loyal and striking man once you got to know him. The Captain gave him decent wages, and Stiles got to keep anything he personally looted that was of no use to the ship as a whole.

Organized looting was not much more different than the underhanded theft of bakery bread he partook in while his mother was ill, and he was left with a less sour feeling in his gut afterward, too.

The crew felt like family, like a bunch of brothers he never had. Of course they had their occasional mutiny and discord like any pirate ship had, but that could only be expected among a ship of men used to getting what they want. Their most recent argument had left them three men short of a full crew, which was why Captain Hale so quickly jumped on recruiting the village boys.

Which left Stiles where he was at currently: gazing appreciatively at the strong, bronze back of one of the young men as they're instructed on how to properly hoist the sails. He reminded himself to thank Captain Hale later. They hadn't made dock at a port town in some time; the Royal Fleet had been tailing them for a fortnight now, and it was still too risky to stop anywhere for an extended period of time. Needless to say, Stiles hadn't seen the underside of a woman's petticoats in just as long.

The young man he was ogling from across the deck turned to look at him, and Stiles pretended he was studying the map in his hands instead. He hadn't told the rest of the ship about his tendencies to carry a torch for attractive men and if they somehow knew already, they made no mention of it. The captain, himself, was guilty of taking a few of his crewmen to his cabin when they hadn't docked in a while anyway, so Stiles harboring sexual feelings for someone of his own sex was really a moot point to be had on their particular ship.

Eventually the urge to talk to the man became too strong and Stiles swaggered over, white-knuckling the map behind his back. _Okay, play it cool_.  
"Are you sure you've never worked a rig before?" he questioned jokingly. "You look t' be a natural at it."

"I've only been on small fishing vessels. Nothing of this size, sir." The young man kept his eyes on the rope in front of him, not daring to even turn to speak to Stiles.

"Hey, don't be afraid t' speak. There be no monsters on this ship, and I've been told I'm the most conversational here," he boasted, puffing his chest although the man still wasn't looking directly at him. Maybe he read it wrong; maybe the man was honestly uninterested in conversing with him at all.

"That's only because ye never shut that hole in your face," Derek added as he passed by, surveying the teaching exercise. He corrected one of the boys with their grip, gently explaining a better technique.

Stiles had a rebuttal on the tip of his tongue, but then he caught the slow-spreading smile on the young man's face. He had a pair of the cutest dimples Stiles had ever seen that wasn't on a lady. "So, what shall I call you?"

"Danny Mahealani, sir."

"Well, I just came over t' welcome you aboard our vessel. You can call me Stiles," he stuck out his hand, feeling a little tingle run up his arm when Danny touched his fingertips as they shook.

Derek pushed forward, interrupting their moment. "Unless ye plan on teachin' these young men on how t' hoist a sail, a feat I have personally seen ye fail miserably at, I suggest ye let me finish up here. Ye can introduce yourself and proceed t' talk their ears off at supper."

There was humor behind Derek's eyes so Stiles didn't feel too affronted by the blatant insult of his skills. It was true, however; he was completely hopeless when it came to the sails. Danny flashed him a shy grin before turning his attention back to Derek's instructions. Stiles felt it was wholly unfair that he should be the only one weak at the knees.  
Stiles wound up spending the rest of the day unabashedly drooling from afar at the perfect specimen that was one Danny Mahealani. The man was a quick learner, efficient, and seemed to take to his work like a fish to water. Captain Hale would be pleased with his choice. As it stood, Stiles was more than pleased. Not only was Danny easy on the eyes, he also had a contagious sense of humor; even Derek was caught joking and laughing with the man when he thought no one was watching.

After supper it was the norm for the crew to gather around and spend quality time together. This usually meant they shared lewd jokes, got falling-down drunk, and passed out all over the deck, but it was still quality time as far as they were concerned.

"So what game should we start off with t'night?" Derek announced, sloshing his rum over the edge of his tumbler and onto the front of Stiles' doublet. Stiles shrugged off the soaked vest with a resigned sigh. Seemed like tonight was meant to start off shirtless already. The night wasn't especially cool, but the breeze coming in from the north was enough to pebble his nipples. He caught Danny glancing at him from the corner of his eye, but by the time he had swiveled his body to face him, the boy was back to staring at the flicker of the fire they had set up in an old oil barrel.

" _Never Have I Ever_. We haven't played that in a while and with all these new, young lads it'd be something fresh," Captain Hale suggested, a vulgar twinkle in his eye. The three new men laughed nervously between themselves, whispering in their native tongue.

"I'll start off," Derek interrupted, which had Stiles silently thanking him for the diversion from Peter's piss-poor attempt at rallying a partner for his bunk that night. They always seemed to play _Never Have I Ever_ no matter that amongst a group of thieves and vagabonds there wasn't much that one hadn't done. Stiles was still relatively young compared to many of the other sailors and therefore was never as drunk at the end of the round by default. It was a source of teasing among many.

"Never have I ever fallen from my bunk in the midst of the night."

Shit. Derek always started off the game directing specific scenarios that only Stiles could have done just to give the other men an equal advantage. Thankfully, he was not the only one who raised their mug to their lips.

It continued in a circular fashion until the drunk shipmate next to Stiles raised his mug in the semblance of a toast. "Never have I ever kissed a fellow man!" The men laughed and cheered raucously, and many drank in turn. Stiles was in the process of gulping down the dregs of his cheap ale when he noticed Danny surreptitiously sneaking a sip from his own mug. His throat seized, and he sputtered through his mouthful, ale dribbling down his chin.

"It's your turn Stiles, but I think we all know your turn should be _Never have I ever drank something without making an outright mess on m'self_." Derek had the whole crew laughing by that point. He sneered at the man across from him in retaliation, a perfect comeback sitting on the tip of his tongue, but the night might end with him being thrown overboard for it. Ah, screw it.

"Never have I ever rubbed m'cock on an inanimate object." The laughter abruptly stopped as Stiles knew it would. Derek's eyes widened impossibly over the rim of his mug and Stiles mentally calculated how long he could tread ocean water at night before a shark smelled him. Derek's face broke suddenly, a wide grin splitting across it. He drank heartily from his glass.

"That was once. I was very drunk, and I've come t'learn Stiles will remind me of it forever."

Danny let out an inebriated titter next to him, sitting his mug of ale down on the deck beside him.

"Oi! Pick your drink up. It's your turn now," Stiles admonished, picking up the mug and forcing it back into Danny's hands if only it meant brushing against his fingers for the barest of moments. Stiles was a harmless flirt, but a flirt nonetheless.

"I can't think of a thing I haven't already done," Danny admitted in a whisper, as if that didn't get Stiles' heart racing in his chest. "I don't want to spoil the fun." His face was flushed from the alcohol and his lips were just this side of swollen, presumably where he had bitten them to keep from laughing out loud during the game. Stiles was having a hard time tearing his gaze away from that mouth, to be quite honest.

"Come now, it's impossible t' have done _everything_." Stiles couldn't feel his cheeks which meant he was well past the point of no return. He could only hope he wasn't leering at the poor guy. Danny replied with the barest of dimples and Stiles promptly lost his train of thought. He was going somewhere with this, honest.

Danny turned the mug around in his hands, getting a good grip before pushing it into the middle of the circle. "Never have I ever gotten clobbering drunk so I could play the flirting fool."

Everyone tipped their mugs this time amidst tales of their own personal conquests. Stiles lowered his just in time to see Danny standing and disappearing into the pitch-black hole that was below deck. He swayed precariously when he finally got his own legs under him, a feeling that was magnified by the natural rocking of the ship. He should go check on Danny; it was dark down there without a lamp, and he was likely to fall over one of the cannons if not careful.

"Danny! Where are y'at down here?" he whispered forcefully into the dark, stumbling into one of the many support beams. The descent down the stairs would have like to kill him if he wasn't already completely intimate with navigating the hull blasted off his face. The cabin was empty save for the soft swinging of the hammocks. Past that was storage where they kept barrels of oil and extra supplies. The ceiling was built low there; only high enough for a child to walk upright. Stiles spotted the sheer white of a man's tunic and made his way towards it, crouched as low as possible without outright crawling.

Danny was sitting, cross-legged, on the dusty floor, head leant back against one of the barrels, eyes closed. He was ...well, he was clobbering drunk.

  
"Sorry," he licked his lips, "I had to escape down here for a minute." Danny crossed his arms against his chest, and Stiles found his gaze glued to the bronze span of skin he could see at the collar of the other man's tunic.

"They're just going to take t'piss outta you. It's what we do: we get stupid drunk, we do stupid things, and we have a good laugh about it later. I've been the butt of enough jokes t’figure that out." Now he regretted saying the word butt because all he could think of now was how great Danny's looked in the cinched, black breeches that Derek had loaned him earlier in the day. Danny leveled a stare at him that he couldn't quite make out in the dark but judging by the prickling at the back of his neck, it was one of barely concealed amusement.

"You don't pay attention very well, do you?" Danny commented, voice thick with mirth. He felt cool fingers brush against his bare ankle, the touch feather-light.

"M'sorry," Stiles mumbled, immediately stepping back assuming he had been standing too close that Danny had accidentally brushed against him. The other option was too terrifying, wonderful, impossible for Stiles to allow himself thoughts of. He should really cut his losses now and go back up topside.

Except Danny was sighing in such an exasperated way and Stiles was suddenly being pulled down to his knees. Danny's lips covered his own which left him unable to contain the surprised groan that was ripped from his throat. The other man's lips were demanding, and the kiss was sloppy in only the way that drunk kisses could be. Even so, Stiles was pretty certain he was actually in his hammock dreaming; there's no way that Danny would actually kiss him. The only logical explanation is that he had gotten so drunk and fallen out and this was all an alcohol-induced fantasy.

"Stop thinking," Danny mumbled against his mouth, darting his tongue out to swipe at Stiles' lower lip.

"You know, that's really hard to do. For me. I'm a thinker at heart. I'm basically the entire ship's Thinker if y'want to get technical. Without me, who knows where they'd end up. Prison or the gallows, really."

Danny pulled back when it became clear that he was mostly just kissing against Stiles' teeth as he talked. To his own credit, Stiles refrained from chasing after his lips.  
"Ok, maybe I could stop thinking jus' for a little bit."

"Best news I've heard honestly," Danny teased, palming the back of Stiles head as he brought his face close again. The other man licked fire into his mouth, tongue chasing after his, retreating, and then coming back to attack all over again. It only took a few minutes of this unbridled passion before Stiles felt his cock swell in his breeches, taking a great interest in their current predicament.

The feeling was magnified when Danny, without warning or ceremony, palmed him roughly. Stiles made a choking noise in the back of his throat, and he had to take great care not to clamp his teeth down on Danny's tongue. He felt fingers tugging and ripping at the ties that held his breeches up.

"These are the most infuriating things I've ever laid hands on," Danny grunted, struggling with shoving Stile's pants down his thighs.

"It's a good thing you don't know me very well, because I've been told I'm quite infur--." Stiles was abruptly cut off and emitted a long, strangled groan as Danny bent and enclosed Stiles’ cock with the hot heat of his mouth. “I forgot what I was saying,” he finished behind the hands he has slapped over his face.

Danny hummed in acknowledgement, and it sent a wonderful staccato of tremors down Stiles’ shaft. He could feel his heart throbbing in his cock with every swipe of Danny’s delicious tongue, tracing a wet path across the silken flesh. His hands flew to Danny’s shoulders and then a slower ascent into his hair. It was tangled and slightly dry from the salt water that had touched it during the day, but Stiles tugged on it roughly like it was a lifeline thrown out into a rough sea.

Danny’s spit mingled with the pre-cum that continuously oozed and slid down his shaft. It created the perfect friction for Danny to grasp and tug in tandem while he swirled his tongue devilishly around the head. The extra stimulation had Stiles stuttering out curses much louder than he intended.

  
“Fuckkk. Fuck, everyone is going t’hear us.”

Danny released his cock with a sharp _pop_ and laughed genuinely. Stiles focused really hard on what he was going to say next instead of how swollen and reddened the boy’s lips had become sucking Stiles off. “Here, give that beautiful mouth something to do then.” He raised two fingers to Stiles mouth and gently traced his lips.

Stiles suctioned his fingers in quickly, lavishing them with his tongue until they were thoroughly slick. His cock throbbed in anticipation of what would happen next. The spit would not be enough ---not nearly enough--- but they would cross that bridge when they came to it. Danny extricated his fingers from between Stiles teeth. Instead of pressing where he hoped they would, he was shocked to find that they disappeared between Danny’s legs after a quick fumble with his own pants.

_Oh shit. **Oh fuck**_. That was so much hotter. “God, have mercy on me,” Stiles groaned.

Danny shot him a wicked smile just visible in the dark and took Stiles cock back in his mouth. This time Danny did not hold back as he deep-throated Stiles as far as he could take him in, all the while moaning as those hands mysteriously worked between his legs. Danny’s hardened member was leaking where it rubbed against Stiles’ thigh purposefully.

  
Danny groaned heavily, the vibration shuddering through Stiles like a cold chill. The other boy’s eyes closed in pleasure, and Stiles could feel his balls draw up in preparation for his orgasm. “I’m not going t’last much longer,” he warned Danny who just swallowed him down and sucked him harder in response.

Stiles vision grew white behind his eyelids, his entire body going blissfully numb, as his orgasm rent through him. Shocks of electricity jolted his lower half, cum shooting from the head of his cock into Danny’s warm mouth. Stiles moaned in pleasure, hanging his head to rest on Danny’s shoulder. Little aftershocks continued to course through his body as Danny continued to gently suck at the head until Stiles’ sensitivity had him pulling back.

He slotted his mouth against Danny’s, one hand traveling down to grasp around the other boy’s wrist. Danny exchanged his messy kiss, panting heavily as he continued to work the soft flesh of his hole with the pads of his fingers. His cock lay, heavy and hot, against Stiles’ thigh where it continued to slide and fuck against the tender skin.

“Is this enough?” Stiles found himself asking, sliding his tongue against Danny’s. He nibbled at the boy’s full lower lip, enjoying the quick change in his breathing.

“Y-yeah. S’good,” Danny gasped out, grasping Stiles’ fingers suddenly with his hand. From there he guided them between the cleft of his cheeks to take over his previous ministrations. Stiles’ felt how slick he was already just from what little saliva he had received early and what could only be Danny’s own precum that had traveled down.  
“I don’t want t’hurt you.”

“You’re not going to fucking hurt me,” Danny bit out, kissing him harshly. He was closer than he let on because Stiles had barely pressed forward, searing heat enveloping his fingertip, before Danny abruptly spilled his seed onto Stiles’ leg. Danny slumped forward into Stiles after a few seconds, both of them still kneeling on the hard floor.

Stiles felt giddy and weightless. The alcohol could almost convince him to go again. However, Danny’s weight grew heavier against his shoulder, and he knew the other boy must be tired from not only what just happened, but the work on the ship he had did that day. He helped to lace up both of their pants quickly.

“Let’s go back up topside and lie down,” he urged, guiding Danny out of the alcove they were in and towards the stairs. Many of the sailors were passed out around the circle they had been sitting in, but a few continued to share stories quietly amongst themselves. Derek was one of the ones still awake and glanced up as they breached the top of the stairs. He smiled knowingly as realization set in.

Fuck. He wasn’t going to let this go without saying something. Danny blinked sleepily next to him, barely standing upright.  
“Ye boys get lost down there?” Derek jabbed, a wicked grin playing about his lips.

“He tripped, and I fell,” Stiles replied cheekily, relishing in the smirk Danny returned. He led Danny to a pile of ripped sails at the bow of the ship; it would be far more comfortable than the unforgiving deck.

Danny flopped down immediately, holding his arm open for Stiles to lie next to him and curl into his side. The ship lurched beneath them, and Stiles fought to keep his head from swimming. “I hope this doesn’t change our working relationship,” Stiles jabbered, curling into the heat from Danny’s body. He smelled so nice this close – like salt water and sun.

  
“I’m sure this won’t affect your ogling from a distance while I do all the hard work, at all.”

Stiles laughed openly, entwining his fingers between Danny’s calloused ones. Never had he ever felt contentment settle down upon his bones like it was doing right now.


End file.
